30 Kisses for Kyle and Christophe
by Inglorious DMK
Summary: [KyleChristophe] 30 themes, 30 kisses, 30 drabbles and ficlets of ChristopheKyle goodness. M for SPstyle language, not naughtiness. Yet.
1. Original Spice Rum

Title: Original Spiced Rum  
Author: Kameko-chan  
Pairings: Christophe/Kyle  
Notes: I am on CRACK. Alright, this is written for the 30 kisses community on LJ (as all of these will be). It's theme 21, 'plunder'.

-

Christophe was a trained assassin and master of covert ops. His childhood career as "The Mole" had taken root and flourished, and now his skills were in high demand the world over. The USA, his native France, Russia, Mexico, Italy, he'd seen them all and never missed a target, never botched a job. So, it was a great shock to our sneaky spy when a thoroughly intoxicated Kyle Broflovski managed to sneak up on him and lock him in a death-cuddle from behind. Either he was losing his touch, or alcohol imbued Kyle with extraordinary skulking abilities. In any case, Christophe found himself in the middle of the living room with his boyfriend attached to his back like some freakish parasite.

"Kyle," the young man asked, hint of a French accent still coloring his voice after all his years in America, "what are you doing?"

"Arr, I be not this Kyle," the drunken Jew replied, grinning into his lover's leather coat, "Ye be calling me the dread pirate Broflovski! _Captain_ dread pirate Broflovski"

Christophe sighed, eying an empty bottle of Captain Morgan's. Damned Stan and Kenny had probably brought it over, along with a copy of that blasted Disney film with the sexy lead actor. They knew how Kyle could get around pirates and booze. "Captain dread pirate Broflovski, then," he said, trying to sound irritated but failing miserably, "could you PLEASE release me?"

"Nope." Kyle squeezed the captured man a little tighter. "I caught you, you're mine. My plunder. My _booty_." A very un-pirate like giggle escaped the dread pirate Broflovski at that last comment, making the Mole's lips quirk up in a smile.

"Arrr, you'll be making a fine trophy wench," Kyle continued, unaware of his boyfriend's utter lack of respect for his Captain dread pirate-ness. "I like 'em male and foreign."

"Why a wench? Why not cabin boy? They are the same thing, yes?"

Captain dread pirate Broflovski considered this for a moment. "Do I get to talk like a pirate either way?"

Christophe rolled his eyes. "Yes, Kyle."

The redhead grinned and released the taller man. "I believe we have an accord," Kyle said solemnly. He stuck out his hand, waiting for a shake to seal the deal, but Christophe bypassed the outstretched palm and kissed Kyle full on the lips instead. Captain dread pirate Broflovski melted at the skillful contact and decided that would work just as well.

END

Eep, my first South Park fic! How'd it go?

Hee, accord. I love PotC.


	2. Replacement

Title: Phantom Lover  
Author: Kameko-chan  
Pairings: Christophe/Kyle, onesided Kyle/Stan  
Notes: Theme #4, 'Our Distance and That Person'

* * *

As I kiss you breathless in the bedroom we've shared for the past two years, I can tell that I'm not the one on your mind.

It's not always like this. Sometimes when I take you in my arms, your body answers to _me_, to _my _touches. Other times, like today, your responses are alien, as though my body is a conduit for your phantom lover. I often wonder how you can imagine his actions so well when he has never touched you like this, but you've had a long time to run through this imaginary scenario, haven't you?

You must have a very low opinion of my intelligence if you think I don't notice when your thoughts stray towards him. You're doing it again, right now, and I can't say anything because you look so amazing with your head thrown back like that. A strip of sunlight filters through the half-closed curtains and haze of smoke from my forgotten cigarette to light the stunning shock of red hair that falls across the pillow, perfectly completing the image. I pretend that I don't hear the whispered, half-broken syllables of his name that escape in your desperate gasps for air. You always call out the right name in the end, anyways.

If I thought that killing Stanley Marsh would close the gap between us, I'd find him right now and rip out his heart with my bare hands. All that would do, though, is make you cry, and at the end of it all I'd be more his replacement than ever. Damned no matter what I do, the story of my life.

I love you, Kyle. I wish you loved me back.

END

Eck, not how I wanted to turn out AT ALL.


	3. Mixed Emotions

Title: Mixed Emotions  
Author: Kameko-chan  
Pairings: Kyle/Christophe  
Notes: Theme #14, 'Radio-cassette player'

When I turned sixteen, Christophe gave me a cassette player. It was a relic if ever I saw one, a ton of plastic and fake wood paneling that would run you ten dollars at the average garage sale. Dual tape decks and a radio that picked up nothing but static, that was my gift from a hit man in training.

Everyone laughed at the Mole and his beast of a present. Even Kenny, who could barely afford the card he gave me and probably stole the twenty dollars I found inside, laughed along with the rest. Christophe didn't seem to care, he never does. He turned his back to their jeers and snuck another cigarette before my mother took it away and crushed it beneath her designer heels.

When I asked him about my gift later that evening, he told me to make a mixed tape with it. "It's more real, making cassette tapes rather than CDs," he explained. "It is one of my favorite activities. Try it, you will enjoy it."

Well, what the hell?

In the next few weeks, I began to learn what he meant as my allowance was drained by blank tapes and 99 cent cassettes in dusty bargain bins. I could have wired my computer to the cassette player rather than amass a collection of obsolete audio, I suppose, but that would have felt too much like cheating.

When I finished my first tape, I gave it to him. He was delighted with it, and I never could figure out whether it was due to my mixing abilities or simply because I'd taken him seriously. He gave me one of his tapes the next day.

I kissed him the day I gave him my sixth tape. It was the first time I bothered with a title, and I called that one 'Impossible'. It surprised me when he kissed back.

My seventeenth cassette was peppered with Al Green songs. I whimsically dubbed it 'Music to Make Love to' and made him laugh. We must have played that one a thousand times, until the ribbon wore down to nothing.

Number thirty-two was titled 'Eternity', a soft and dreamy mix that still brings out the tears. I can remember how he's brush the hair out of my eyes when we listened to that one together. I can't remember another time when he was nearly so gentle.

I called my fifty-third 'Poetry of Heartbreak'. It was the last cassette I ever made, the only one he never heard.


	4. Redeye to Denver

Title: Redeye to Denver  
Author: Kameko-chan  
Series: South Park  
Pairings: Christophe/Kyle  
Notes: Theme # 20, 'The Road Home'

* * *

Christophe wasn't home much. It was understandable—there wasn't much call in the sticks for his profession—but that didn't mean it was an easy reality to live with, for either party involved.

He'd been away for a month when he shuffled on the red eye flight to Denver. The window seat was wasted on him, just as the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe and the bright lights of Paris at midnight had been wasted on him. His mind was far too busy to take in the sights he'd seen a dozen times before, was filled with feverish pictures of a redhead stretched out by a hearth in rural Colorado.

The movie was horrible and the food was worse, _Gigli _accompanied by congealed gravy and undercooked potatoes. A woman with a screaming newborn slept through her baby's shrieks, not giving a shit for the rest of the passengers so long as she could catch a nap. Of all the flights he could have picked, of course he would end up on the stereotypically bad one, it fucking figured. Add another point in the "God hates me" column.

Christ, he hated flying.

His body told him it was an absolutely ungodly hour when he finally stumbled into Denver International, but in by the local clocks Christophe arrived at approximately three in the afternoon. He didn't take much solace in that.

Baggage claim was a mob, as baggage claim often is. He contemplated leaving the bulging black bag on the luggage carousel indefinitely, but the reminder of his favorite black sweater quickly shoved that idea out the window. Instead, he jostled through the poking, pushing, prodding crowd and wrested his monstrosity of a suitcase away from baggage claim and towards the waiting bus bound for his final destination.

The trip to South Park from Denver proved uneventful and he took the opportunity to sleep, nearly missing his stop. After a bleary-eyed thank you to the man who woke him and a barely cohesive call to a cab company, Christophe found himself leadenly trudging up the stairs to his door. He smiled, just a little. Home. Blue clapboard and white trim. Cobblestone walkways hidden with snow for half the year. Hardwood floors and cheap white wine. A warm bed to share.

The door opened just as he reached for the handle. Christophe found his arms filled with a familiar weight. He breathed in. He twirled red curls in his fingers.

"Kyle."

The embraces were violent. And the kisses—oh, the homecoming kisses were the sweetest, full of distilled desire and desperation. The kisses almost made it worth leaving in the first place.

"I love you."

And the redeye flight and the screaming infant and _Gigli_ were all worth it, to be home with him again.

**END**


	5. Semilegit

Title: Semi-legit  
Author: Kameko-chan  
Series: South Park  
Pairings: Christophe/Kyle  
Summary: You can put him in a suit and tie, but he'll always be The Mole.  
Notes: 30 kisses, #7 - Superstar

---------------------------

"The next time you end up on the front page, I'm breaking up with you."

Christophe glanced up from the paper. "Even if I win the county bake-off with grand-mère's apple pie recipe?"

Kyle scowled and snatched the newspaper from his boyfriend. "Don't be cute with me, asshole, you took on another job! God _damnit_, Christophe, you promised me you'd go legit! You're working for the CI-fucking-A, they'll _kill _you if they find out!" He threw the paper back onto the table, this time with the headline 'Mole in the Pentagon' clearly visible on the front page.

Christophe waved away the offending article. "You can't prove that was me."

"They're leaking secrets to the _French_, who the hell else would it be!"

"Well, I was quite flattered when they asked me, apparently I'm something of a folk hero back home…" the Mole twiddled his thumbs.

"Great, I'm dating an international susperstar in the world of espionage. A soon to be _dead_ one, but hey, you win some, you lose some..."

"Now now, you're upset." The Frenchman beckoned the redhead towards him. "Come to Christophe, cher, I will make it all better..."

"You are NOT getting any right now!" Kyle threw up his hands. "I give up! I should've listened to mom and married a nice Jewish girl, _she _wouldn't give me all this trouble!"

"Yes," Kyle gasped when Christophe's lips brushed against his ear as he whispered sultrily, "but would a nice Jewish girl do this?" He then proceeded to prove to Kyle that there was a reason they called it a 'french' kiss.

"You suck."

"If you'd like, darling."

"I'm definitely NOT forgiving you next time."

END 


	6. No Second Chance

Title: No Second Chance  
Author: Kameko  
Series: South Park  
Pairings: Kyle/Christophe  
Summary: Dear Christophe...

Notes: Theme #2, News/Letter. Brackets are things that were supposed to be strikethrough...

-------------------------

(Dear) Christophe

I'm not sure how I'll get this to you. Maybe I'll just have to give it to you the next time I see you. You'll probably laugh at me for writing you a letter like a fucking girl, but maybe you won't because you're French and weird.

It's been awhile since you left. It sucks not being able to talk to you, none of the guys want to discuss anything besides the girls' soccer team and whether or not Halle Berry is going to do another movie where she wears a skimpy leather outfit. Well, they are only seventeen, and they know I get bored with it so they do try (Stan and Kenny, anyways) but I like being able to talk politics with someone who knows who the Minister of Defense is.

The cat's been well, she's been getting along quite well with Ike and mom's even taken a liking to her, which is good because I think the stupid fucking thing clawed up the drapes behind the couch the other day. Well, maybe mom won't find them for a while. The stupid furball misses you a lot. I miss you a lot.

(I wish you were alive so I could)

(I wish I could have kissed you before you)

I wish you were back.

(Love) Your Friend,

Kyle


	7. Afterburn

Title: Afterburn  
Author: Kameko  
Series: South Park  
Pairings: Kyle/Christophe  
Summary: Christophe demand compensation for the ill effects of a day at the beach.  
Notes: Theme #19, 'Red'.

--------------------

"I told you! Didn't I fucking tell you!"

Kyle tried not to giggle, mostly because it would be a most girlish thing to do but also because Christophe would probably murder him. "Well, you're not _much_ paler than me, so I didn't think..."

"Of course you didn't think! You're an idiot!"

"Hey! That was uncalled for!" The redhead made a face and flicked Christophe right on his raw, sunburned nose, grinning madly at the womanly yelp he let out in response. "You could've put on sunscreen like a sane person."

"When, in the entire time I've known you," Christophe deadpanned, "have I ever given you the impression that I was sane?" He sighed and collapsed onto the couch. "Damnit, Kyle, I look like a fucking lobster. Or your hair."

"Quit bitching, you big baby, I said I was sorry." Kyle flicked Christophe on the ear as he sat down, earning another yelp and accompanying glare. "I'll never drag you off to the beach again."

"That's not good enough."

"Fuck _you_, asshole."

Christophe held out an arm. "Kiss it better."

"Kiss _what _better?" Kyle batted the arm away. To his credit, Christophe didn't squeal like a woman this time. "You don't have an owie, you're _sunburned_."

"Exactly." The Frenchman offered his arm again. "Kiss it all better."

Kyle glanced at the vast expanse of reddened skin, doubtful. "_All _of it?"

"Yes."

A sigh. "Anyone tell you you're a big fat fucking pervert, Mole?"

"Only you, Broflovski," Christophe leered, "only you."

The redhead rolled his eyes as he started kissing and licking up Christophe's arm. "Better stop your damn whining after this, s'all I got to say."

END 


End file.
